Kanye West Is What Internalized Racism and Misogyny Looks Like

Speak On It is a Teen Vogue column by Jenn M. Jackson, whose queer Black feminist perspective explores how today's social and political life is influenced by generations of racial and gender (dis)order. In this piece, she examines Kanye West’s recent visit to the White House and what it has to do with larger systems of race and gender in the United States.

Many moments during the October 11 meeting between rapper Kanye West and President Donald Trump, in the Oval Office of the White House, could be described as cringeworthy — strange, even. West’s embrace of Trump — a president whose policies actively harm marginalized groups and especially Black Americans — is indicative of his beliefs. Kanye's ideas about race, gender, and politics highlight the deeper commitments to misogynoir and anti-Blackness that too many Black men exhibit when those behaviors grant greater access to power. When Black men actively participate in patriarchy and sexism, as Kanye does by aligning with Trump, they reinforce the very systems that harm all Black people, harking back to the distorted images of the fictional “Uncle Tom” character, whose prime interest is seeking the favor of white people.

During the meeting, Ye was wearing a “Make America Great Again” hat, and the “proud non-reader of books” had much to say about race in America, policing and murders in Chicago, and the history of Black Americans. Kanye also expressed thoughts on the 2016 presidential election.

“I love Hillary. I love everyone, right? But the campaign ‘I’m with her’ just didn’t make me feel, as a guy that didn’t get to see my dad all the time, like a guy that could play catch with his son,” Kanye said.

Kanye’s comments about Hillary are not only sexist, by seeming to imply that being “with her” somehow undercuts raising a son, they also point to his apparent obsession with patriarchy and power. This wasn’t the first time the Chicago-raised rapper has espoused ahistorical and anti-Black ideas about race in America, either. Just a few months ago, he said slavery was “a choice.”
“You made a Superman,” Kanye told Trump, referring to the ubiquitous red hat of the Trump campaign. “That’s my favorite superhero, and you made a Superman cape for me.”

Superman, a fictional comic book alien from the planet Krypton, looks human but defies all boundaries of humanity. He can fly, has laser vision, annihilates villains with his super strength, has machismo, and wears a cape. Superman is also very white — so, in essence, Kanye is putting on armor of male whiteness whenever he wears the cap.

Power is a tricky thing. Often, people assume that it has to be absolute. They believe that if one group or individual has power, it necessarily reflects the disempowered status of another group or individual. But Black feminists challenge us to rethink notions like this. In her book Ain’t I a Woman: Black Women and Feminism, originally published in 1981, Black feminist philosopher and scholar bell hooks explained: “Racism has always been a divisive force separating black men and white men, and sexism has been a force that unites the two groups.”

For Kanye, though, Trump’s racism is apparently not a deal-breaker, as he noted on Thursday at the White House.

President Trump, the head patriarch of the United States, has pushed health and labor policies that make life harder for women and children. Not to mention, he has exhibited enduring support for newly confirmed Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh, the penultimate affront to sexual assault survivors. Sexism is fundamental to Trump’s executive leadership.

Kanye is no stranger to exhibiting sexist behaviors himself. hooks explains this phenomenon shared among many men, saying, “Men of all race in America bond on the basis of their common belief that a patriarchal social order is the only viable foundation for society.” Essentially, Kanye’s ability to overlook Trump’s racism complements the duo’s mutual disregard for the rights and humanity of women. This relationship benefits them both, too. Kanye gets to spout his verbal diarrhea in the Oval Office and Trump gets to look like the hero of “the blacks.”

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Kanye’s actions have political ramifications, too. Alicia Garza, cofounder of the Black Lives Matter network and special projects director for the National Domestic Workers Alliance, explained on Twitter how Kanye’s support of Trump is part of a larger tactic to rally Black men toward the president.

“...Lots of y’all thought Trump was a stunt too. Don’t forget that 13% of Black men voted for him,” she wrote. “And if you don’t think Kanye is being trotted out here to secure some additional votes, may the force be with you.”

Black women, however — 94% of whom voted for Hillary Clinton in 2016 — are typically the last line of defense to avert the threats posed to Black people across the country. That’s because Black women are most impacted by sexism and racism and yet are furthest from power. When the Combahee River Collective explained that “major systems of oppression are interlocking,” they were highlighting how Black women, in particular, face multiple oppressions at the same time, even from Black men and white women. Legal scholar and feminist Kimberlé Crenshaw summed this up with the term “intersectionality” in 1991.

This is why, a few months ago, I wrote a column explaining that “Black Women Are Not Your Superheroes.” We are trying to survive in a world where even men who look like our fathers, brothers, sons, and partners are still actively working to maintain systems of oppression and inequality that harm us.